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That's Just Crazy Talk
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What was this girl talking about? As Maria went on and on about random nonsense, it occurred to George that something seriously wrong had happened to her brain. He was still tense from the possibility of being shot, which he still didn't know wouldn't come, and the last thing that he needed was to also be saddled with babysitting someone who had clearly gone nuts. It was, therefore, a great relief when Maria spotted one of her other friends and ran in her direction, taking along Duncan's weapon, which George wouldn't have wanted anyway. He was desperate, yes, but if he wanted a sharpened stick, he would have just fashioned one of his own.

"Well, goodbye, crazy," he said, running in a crouch out of the general area, dragging his chair behind him. This unwieldy weapon could be whittled down a bit once he was clear of the general area. Perhaps if he found some sort of a strap of some kind, he would be able to turn the bottom of the seat into a small shield or something. Technical things weren't his strong suit, and he'd probably just take a chair leg off and turn it into a club. There were all sorts of possibilities for a chair.

(George Leidman continued elsewhere)
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